Sunday afternoon was relaxing. We decided to lay low at home after staying at the cabin all weekend. A mutual decision was reached that we would we hose off and lounge around the house in comfortable clothes. Stacey got ready first and put on her comfy clothes. I got ready second and put on my comfy clothes. When I came downstairs Stacey saw what I was wearing and was confused. She thought I was going “out”.
What’s funny (but probably more then anything, sad), is that apparently there is no distinction between my lazy Sunday clothes and my Sunday best. But, like most other hobo-sexual males, I have no problem with that.